The Question Game
by To-ya
Summary: It begins with Sakura's suicide. It ends at the beginning. Hints of SS, though that's hardly the focus.
1. Aftermath

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The Question Game

Disclaimer: They aren't mine, though Angsty!Xiao-Lang appears to be a permanent resident among the muses.

*

Alone, a dark-haired, dark-eyed, dark-faced teenage boy walked down the center of Tomoeda's empty streets. In one hand he held a tattered stuffed bear, hand-sewn, just as dark as his hair, eyes, expression. His steps were slow, reluctant, as if by keeping away from the place, he could deny the backwards fling his life had taken. Around his neck, the key of Clow hung like a jaw-splitting grin of golden thread against the black of his jacket.

The day, mid-spring and warm, smelled of sakura, and Sakura, and another life now closed to him only because he had failed to see. He pressed himself onward, untouched by all but memories.

"Shaoran," she'd said, "there's really nothing wrong. Promise!"

Her smile had outdone him; her smile always did. Had he not been stunned by honey-hair against flushed-pearl cheeks he might have noticed the subtle twitch of her lips that gave away the lie. Then again, she'd gotten remarkably good at lying by that time, though he'd had no way of knowing that.

The sakura trees were in bloom, pink and full and raining petals down around him like a thousand fingers reaching for his hand, or a thousand tears stained by the sunlight. Sakura's aura saturated every one. How hadn't he figured it out?

"Xiao-Lang," Mei-Ling had told him, "she's not herself. There's something—"

"Li-kun, please help her," Daidouji had asked.

She must have come here every night, he thought, pausing in the middle of the road. In his mind's eye the silver pentagram still shone blinding on the concrete beneath him, etched into darkness by the world's most powerful magician.

Even Yue and Keroberos hadn't known. They'd only seen her leaving, night after night, with the excuse that she was working on a project for school. 

Seven days.

Seven days, and she was gone.

He took his left hand out of his pocket and clutched the teddy bear in his right, pressing it to his chest as though he might revive her with the sound of his heartbeat. What made a girl decide to end her life, when she had everything? Loving friends, a supportive family, good grades, wizarding abilities unequaled by any in the world…

The sakura trees stirred. To his magical sight they were brighter than the sun.

For seven nights she'd come here, given power to the trees that bore her name, slowly withering herself into nothing. It was almost like masochism, but without the telltale scars. For seven days she'd lied to him, to Daidouji, to her brother and father and guardians, hiding everything behind those verdant eyes and that cloud-white smile. 

Finally, on the last night, he'd found her.

"Sakura…"

She hadn't turned at the sound of her name. She hadn't moved at the push of his hand. Her face was still, and her masks slipped away, and in death he saw the rictus of fear that had eluded him while she was alive. Her small, pale hands had grasped at nothing. And the trees had pulsed with her shivering, faint breaths, had continued to pulse even after she stopped breathing.

Seven days.

Neither of her guardians had felt her death. The power she had bled into the sakura blossoms sustained them as well as it had before; her suicide, as her life had been, was selfless.

He stared up into the blue, cloud-swelled sky, a boy with a bear in his hands and tears in his eyes. There had to be a reason, didn't there? Was it something he had done?

The sakura, to him, were like Sakura's cheeks on that day, when she had lied. As the clouds darkened and the rain began, it seemed she was crying for him, making up for the days that she'd smiled while she hurt. He hardly felt the rain, though it wound down from his hair in thick rivulets and clung to his jeans, though he opened his jacket and sheltered the bear inside, though he felt something spill from his eyelids and wondered if anyone would know the difference between his tears and the raindrops.

He tilted his head to the sky and opened his mouth like a child waiting for the first snowflake of winter to drop on their tongue. And instead of a snowflake, a sakura petal cavorted down from its branch and brushed his lips with rosy warmth.

"Why?" he asked, as his grip on the bear and on his composure vanished with the petal's kiss. "Did I do something wrong? You never told _anyone_…"

Inundated with the sorrow of a boy and girl forever parted, the sakura trees only bent to the rain, towards the soaked form and his dim shadow.

"Why?"

There was a soft tug at his chest, like a pinprick, or the press of one thin, smooth finger.

"Shaoran-kun," she'd said to him, "don't worry about me."

Almost without thinking he raised one hand to the winged star hanging weightless at his neck. And cried out—the Key was hot, burned his fingers, thrust sensation deep into a mind unwilling to accept it.

"Shaoran-kun."

In a soft cocoon of tawny-gold light, the Key rose as though being lifted, and spun in front of his wide, wet eyes. It hummed one low, steady note, in what sounded like her voice; hypnotized by sight and sound, he lost himself in the thought that, perhaps, this was only a dream—that he would wake and realize some terrible sin of his, and appreciate her all the more because he'd known a day without her. But then the humming stopped—

Everything stopped.

Before him was the Key, bright against a background of frozen transparent lines and marble-still sakura trees. Behind him was the world which lacked all that he needed—Sakura, and the answer to why she'd gone.

"Do you want to know?" the air seemed to ask. His heartbeat drummed fast inside his ears. Was she listening? Could she—

"Yes," he whispered, and touched the burning Key.

The aura of the trees caressed his sight like her deceptive, selfless smile. "Then…let me show you."

****

*To be continued…

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Author's Notes: Suicide-fics make me mad. Especially CCS suicide-fics, where half the cast is perky to a fault. I hate their OOC-ness, and I hate the overused "Sakura slashes her wrists" formula, so I'm trying for something different here. There will be a second part, 'cause to make the most happy character in the series kill herself without explanation is beyond even my evilest urges, and there may even be a third part if I end up liking this story enough. Reviews are appreciated. Sank yuu! ^_^


	2. Suicide

**The Question Game**

Chapter Two

**Disclaimer:** They aren't mine. Though I'd like to borrow Yue for a weekend sometime. ^_^

***

Alone, a sleeping teenage girl scuffed blindly down the center of Tomoeda's empty streets. Her chin was raised, mouth sweet and smiling, hands folded like a silent prayer. Only the amber fringe of her lashes, splayed over her sakura cheeks, gave her away as a sleeper. The pleated skirt of her school uniform swayed against her bare, chilled thighs. She was dreaming.

"Come here," sang the stars inside her crystalline unconscious. Of course she would. She loved the light.

Her footstep was broken over a tiny gravel rock, which snagged the bottom of her shoe and sent her sprawling. At this, her eyes flew open, green glancing desperate around the darkened world.

"No—" She shook her head, rose-flush fading as her face became a cold, bloodless white. Here again. Here again. She'd hoped it was all a dream—here again.

Shivering hands clutched shaking shoulders as she picked herself up. The streets were quiet—no one noticed the silent dying child trapped within her own routine. Her lips quivered as she mouthed the word "Help" without enough conviction to push it past her throat. This was the seventh night. Perhaps the last.

The little ribbons in her hair flung themselves against her face when she whirled around, attempting to walk back home. They curled, blue and black and silver, twisted fingers that made her stumble.

Dark spindle branches were devoured inside the airy pink clouds of a thousand sakura blossoms, swaying over her like a blanket being spread across the entire moonlit sky. She loved those trees, didn't she? Didn't she love them?

_…even in winter…bloom…_

This wasn't right; this wasn't right; she wasn't _here_ again. It was too much. She couldn't take another night of—of _this—_

But her hands traced the ground, the little silver lines of that five-pointed star, her own magic circle springing up beneath it in a sickly gold glow. 

"It will—" she started to say as she raised her arms above her head, to cast the spell again. No; she couldn't say those words, just as she couldn't stop herself; the motions were like a dance beaten into her limbs by an abusive puppetmaster. The pink petals clouded her peripheral vision. 

Broken rules. She couldn't lie again. "It will be—"

The lights, silver and gold, snaked up around her like slow, soft electrocution. The crooked raise of her hand made her look up; her fingers waved, of their own accord, through the thick, warm night, trailing silver lines. Her voice sounded distant, dull. For all that flickered before her, she could not take a single step back.

So many lies from a little girl. Lies to Tomoyo-chan and Meilin and her Shaoran. She always did what she had to do. Self-sacrifice. Couldn't have them knowing.

"Death…"

For it was true—she would die tonight.

Afraid? No, she shouldn't have been. She wouldn't be. No.

Sakura clenched her hands, and a glow returned to the gold—she thought of Kero-chan's true form; how strong he'd be; how free, without her, free to take whatever course he wanted. Silver sparked almost white at her wrists. Yue, she felt, might not miss her at all.

Another lie. She smiled, dismissing it. Of course he'd miss her; Yukito would, and they were the same, in a way.

Shaoran…how would she ever explain this to Shaoran, though?

A message, perhaps—something of her left behind. Something besides the swaying branches and the whispering rain. Something of words; something of magic; something of Sakura, who would give her life to the sakura tonight.

Licking her lips, she tasted power. Her soul, webbed out in silver and gold, traced along her skin, soon to be broken. Her own mistake, Eriol had told her, sorrow in his eyes.

The seventh night.

The last.

Time to correct errors made.

Sakura took a breath and gathered herself, magic and dreams and laughter and tears, into a bright little ball of resolution. If they found her crying, they'd be upset. This close to that final moment, she could hear her own heart pounding like a distant footstep, smell the sweet, soft scent of the trees soon to devour her, see this street, this familiar street, stretched out dark and ominous and strangely calm…

Then she saw the shadow racing towards her.

"Sakura!"

And she knew she had to go.

With a quick gasp, she threw herself into the channels that had taken her seven nights to build. It hurt more than she'd thought—heat needled her skin, drove down her throat, through her chest—but by the time the blurred outline had resolved itself into Shaoran, her Shaoran, she was already crumbling to the ground on useless white limbs.

He caught her, she thought, though she was numb with warmth and dizzy with the effort of keeping her eyes open. She could feel the last bits of her slipping away, like slides through a projector screen. Morning, skating after Touya—Yukito tossing her a candy—her father's hands on hers, guiding icing over new-made cake—Meilin's dark eyes and Yamazaki's stories—Kero-chan—Yue—Tomoyo—

His face was the last to fly from her mind, gentle as a butterfly's wing. 

As she watched him hold her, she wanted to say it. And now it was true—she'd done her part, and now…

"…Shaoran-kun…" Murmuring lips barely moved, but he heard her. He had to. "It will…everything…it will be okay for sure…"

Then there was only her aura dropping through his fingers, an effervescent chill that might have been the wind. Clow's power took her in hand, guided what remained of Kinomoto Sakura into black branches and pink petals and warm, quiet rest.

"You've done well, Sakura-san," whispered Hiiragizawa Eriol, in a faraway place, as he let his surrogate daughter die.

*To be continued… 

**Author's Notes:** Yes, I'm a slow writer, and liable to always be. I apologize profusely for the long wait, and I promise I have every intention of finishing this story. Soon? Perhaps not. But eventually. It's only four chapters, after all. Thank you to lilsue, DaShyGurl, Zoe-E, KristiexxNguyen, Bballstar42, Stephie-chan, L.P.B., Cutie4u, Candyland, doe.aop, Avelyn Lauren, and lilvietdevilgrl for reviewing and giving me encouragement; you guys are great. Though you're all too nice. ^_^;; I hope this chapter wasn't too disappointing for anyone, but keep in mind, I'm not trying to tell what happened _after_ Sakura's suicide—this is, indeed, written backwards, and it is going to stay that way. 

Also, for those who don't know, "It will be okay for sure" is the translation I use for Sakura's "invincible spell."

As always, constructive criticism is welcome, and I hope to update soon!


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